


once a secret

by redbirb



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DC Comics, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Consensual Sex, Court of Owls, Courtmaster!Tim Drake, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Multi, No actual noncon, Talon!Dick Grayson, Talon!Jason Todd, a person who is dealt with accordingly, between the 3 characters, just a creeper hitting on minors, minor blood and violence, nothing actually happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 05:16:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13968102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redbirb/pseuds/redbirb
Summary: Fitted with the mask of the Owl, he walks among his peers, robed and straight-backed, unfearing, two Talons following closely behind each footstep he takes. They bow their heads to him, a young man who is smaller, lithe and deadly, coiled with the potential to end their lives ; they respect as much as they fear him, Tim knows.





	once a secret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wintersnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersnight/gifts).



> Inspired by wintersnight and their tumblr post
> 
> https://iphoenixrising.tumblr.com/post/169873772647/how-do-you-think-fracture-tim-would-handle-a
> 
> Had a little talk about a couple of Talon AU ideas. This is 1 of 3.

There’s that old saying, “Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”

But the Court of Owls is made of many and it is Tim’s job to keep them in line and their duties met. Running a secret society was not something he had pictured for himself as a child, he’d always wanted to be a photographer, to catch the unbelievable on camera ; he never pictured becoming a part of the Gotham mythos. As Courtmaster he is the head of the organization, it’s leader who uses a guiding hand to spur on their presence and keep their secrets.

But who keeps his?

Fitted with the mask of the Owl, he walks among his peers, robed and straight-backed, unfearing, two Talons following closely behind each footstep he takes. They bow their heads to him, a young man who is smaller, lithe and deadly, coiled with the potential to end their lives ; they respect as much as they fear him, Tim knows.

He stands at a podium upon a balcony, peering down over the railing, his guards standing vigilant, one on each side. His subjects may not see his scrutiny, but his gaze passes over the other members like a physical touch, with cold calculation he catches one or two who visibly shiver, a vicious satisfaction blooming a smirk across pink lips. He’d been bred for this position, his mother had said so, had her eye on making her son the Owls’ newest Courtmaster since before he could walk, perhaps before he’d even been conceived ; he aimed to make her proud.

He stretches out his arms, palms up and begins to speak. “My fellow Owls, today we rejoice at the news that our City has begun to change - change for the better! Crime and filth has riddled our streets for too long, damned our way to fuller lives. We come together to kill the strife that plagues us, we come together to be better than those who have come before us.” He pauses strategically, tilting his head back during the moments of silence that follow. Setting his chin back down, voice low and sharp,” But tonight one of us has committed a sin.”

The room goes stiff and still, murmurs trapped behind teeth in dread for what is about to come. Someone’s dirty secret has been uncovered and condemnation will have to be wrought upon the member that is responsible.

“Jeremy Silverstein, you are called to step forth.”

The man freezes then lurches backward as if to flee, but three other members grab him before he can get too far. As customary of their trials, he is stripped of his mask and robe, revealing his face to all that now pass judgement upon him. He is pressed down onto his knees, head pulled back by the hair to look up at his accuser and executioner.

Tim does not find this part of his duties to be the most pleasant, but to maintain order, balance and the loyalty of his followers it must be done. His goals to end corruption cannot be obtained if he has rats within these walls, under his service, and owls are known for their ability to hunt scurrying pests.

“Who was once a respected member among our ranks now stands accused for treachery. Jeremy Silverstein, do you object?”

Terrified eyes beg for mercy that will not be granted. “I-I promise I didn’t do an-anything!”

“You call the Courtmaster a liar? Brazen, I’ll give you that.” Tim allows amusement to bleed into his voice, but only for the moment. “You stand accused of solicitation of a minor and unwanted advances against multiple minors. Such a vile act and abuse of power cannot be permitted nor endorsed by our community. As such, you are condemned by this Court to banishment.”

“No!” A cry breaks out, panic at the sentence.

“Yes,” the Courtmaster says, almost cruelly, and watches solemnly on as the other members held the man down. “By the terms of your contract when becoming a member, you knew the consequences should you disobey or break the binding to the Court. I, as Courtmaster, sanction you as an outcast where you will be ripped of your status, wealth and comfort. You will be marked by the symbol of the Owl as reminder of your crimes. Should you ever step a toe out of line, my Talons,” and at this the words leave his mouth in a purr,” will finish what is left of you. Consider banishment a small mercy for your treachery.”

With a flick of his wrist the order is carried out, Jeremy Silverstein is stripped of his shirt and struggling body held down by the surrounding court members. The Talon on the Courtmaster’s right, tall and broad shouldered, steps down to assist, pulling a standard dagger from their weapon’s belt and took hold of the former member’s flailing hand, angling the blade to carve, tearing into flesh, reddening the steel as the symbol of the Owl was given a home upon skin. The scream of pain dies out as the Talon steps back, allowing the wound to freely bleed, all turning their eyes onto the Courtmaster once again.

Pleased, he speaks. “Begone from our ranks and may you remember… we are watching.”

\---

In his own secret chambers, far from the meeting place, Tim can be at ease. His Talons are with him, all unmasked and bared to each other, the only two who know who wears the title of Courtmaster. Jason has since washed the blood from his knife and hand, sitting on Tim’s bed (their bed) with a sour expression. Tim and Dick understand, they too are unhappy with the circumstances of their prior meeting, but for Jason it’s a bit more personal, hence why Tim had given the younger Talon expressed permission to carry out the final act of the punishment.

“Do you think the other members will whisper about this? We did not have evidence of Silverstein actually… touching anyone,” Dick asked, not as a challenge, but mere curiosity.

“He did not go far, but far enough,” Tim answers with a sigh as he nears the bed and stands infront of Jason, their knees touching, hands cupping a tense jaw and willing comfort through his touch. “We cannot allow ourselves to wait for someone to get hurt. Stomp out the disease when we see it.”

“Piece of shit,” Jason snarls, jaw clenching harder to keep in the anger boiling within him.

He doesn’t fight the grip on his face tilting his gaze up, eyes locking with Tim’s, drawing strength from his master and lover and friend, the guiding hands drawing him into a slow, sweet kiss. Tim pulls back to smile, shifting fingers up to card through Jason’s hair in a soothing, fond manner, scratching at the scalp just right the way they all know Jay likes. Dick comes forth then, sitting next to Jason, petting his thigh and pressing kisses to his ear and cheek.

Jason falls back when Tim pushes at his shoulders, immediately having Dick move to straddle and hover over him, pushing up his shirt to rake nails down the sensitive skin underneath. The man beneath shivers, looking up at the elder and bringing him down for a kiss, hands framing Dick’s neck. They can feel their Master’s watchful eyes, almost a physical touch as the two continue to kiss, separating to remove their shirts. Dick pins the other down with his weight, enjoying the submission, mouthing at Jason’s neck with hot breath and seeking lips, nipping after every kiss. Neither flinch when a hand, smaller than their own, more delicate, softer, takes off their shoes, tickles at their feet for a moment before pulling suggestively at Dick’s hips.

Dick pulls back, turns around to let Tim shed him of his pants and underwear, stepping out of them obediently as per the silent demands. He spares Tim a kiss before turning back to Jason lying pliantly there, waiting, eager hands divesting him of his under clothes too. A hand on Dick’s back guides him back to Jason, tangling up on the sheets, grinding on the other’s thigh with a moan.

And Tim stands back, arms crossed, overseeing his protectors, his defenders, his Talons, the guardians of the Courtmaster. Jason, his underdog, his fighter, is sprawled on his back, arching into Dick’s hands, moaning when lips and teeth cross from shoulder to collarbone, marking him, reminding him of his place here with them. Tim admires the heave of his chest, the jump of muscle whenever pleasure is wrought and moves onto the bed to lie beside them, a hand attentive to one of Jason’s nipples, alternating between pinching and flicking, gathering gasps and whines as currency for his efforts, Dick and Tim combining their efforts to bring their shared lover to a place of bliss. Dick must find a perfect position to grind because they both are moaning now, Dick’s hips rocking and sliding along Jason’s, mouth popping off a shoulder to turn to Tim, licking lips invitingly and Tim can’t help giving into a moment of laughter before giving in to the request for a kiss, nearly being devoured by the want he meets in the action.

“Please,” said so sweetly, they both break apart and look back at the pleading eyes watching them. “Please, I…”

Tim knows he needs this, couldn’t deny Jason anything after showing pure loyalty since the beginning of this promise they’ve entered. Dick, his peacekeeper, his dark horse, presses affection everywhere he can in all the ways he knows how, makes Jason keen and push out breathless happy sounds. And Tim is so proud, proud of both his champions, remembers their blood pact to be there for each other, heart swelling with love for them both.

“You’re both so beautiful,” he says without thinking, eyes rapt on every movement, listening to every sound he hears to remember later in darker times, when all three possibly had to bloody their hands for the sake of their duties. But right now, right here, they are Tim’s and he is theirs and he doesn’t have to share that with the outside world when they are in this bed.

“Ah!” Jason’s voice hitches and he can look down to see why. Dick has moved back to sit up on his knees, a hand around the other’s cock and dragging it up and down progressively faster, spreading heat and fire up Jason’s body, taking him closer to that peak. This gives Tim the room to shift nearer, fingers fitting along a hip and bites softly around Jason’s stomach, delighted in the way the muscles tense and quiver between his teeth.

“You look good like this, Little Wing.” Dick’s voice has that teasing tone, spoken low and laced with desire at the arousal of his partner.

“He does,” Tim hums in agreement, squeezing the hip in his grasp for emphasis. “Responsive and needy. Being so good for us, letting us take care of him.”

“How should we do this, hm? Need to make you feel good, need to see you come undone.” Dick’s eyes are dark, pupils blown so wide there is almost no blue iris left. Jason feels enveloped and safe under that gaze, worshiped and cherished when before them all he knew was disdain from his days on the streets.

Jason whines, having a hard time communicating at this point when his mind is fuzzy from the stimulation and body taunt with the anticipation of getting his release. He finds another way by bucking into the pleasurably tight grip on his cock, hips working to help further along the coil of heat settled in the pit of his stomach. Dick takes the hint, moving his hand with a twist, adding in his other hand to tease at Jason’s hole, not pushing in, just circling and massaging. Tim moves again, head going up to kiss at one of Jason’s shoulders, hand coming up as well to coax the writhing man’s mouth open, slipping them inside and out in a steady motion, mimicking another lewd act Tim hopes they’ll be up to in a little bit after this.

There’s a whimper as Jason closes his eyes, letting himself be overwhelmed and taken to a new high, legs spreading more, hips getting increasingly erratic the closer he gets to that edge. It’s heavenly to him, a fire licking up from the tips of his toes all the way up to the top of his head, eyes threatening to roll back until there’s that tell tale snap and he’s cumming, moaning around Tim’s fingers plundering his passed his lips. He sucks on them as he comes down, eyelids fluttering open again to cast a bleary gaze back onto his lovers, content as they pet him and shower him with their praise.

“Gorgeous,” Tim sighs and he’s aroused too, but puts it off for now, focused on Jason who is still vulnerable. Dick is the same, smiling like he too is sated, however, just from watching his companion while sporting a very interested reaction. “How are you feeling?”

“Floaty,” Jason’s voice is groggy and minimally slurred. “Good. I liked that.”

Dick laughs at that, unbothered by his dirty hand or the fluid staining Jason’s stomach and thighs when he presses himself over the other again, kissing his cheek. “You’re too much, Jay. You better recover quick so Tim and I can have a real go at you.”

“Dick,” Tim reprimands with a roll of his eyes and humor in his voice. He doesn’t want Jason to fall back into misery at the thought of not fulfilling his lover’s right after, but focus on that good feeling they’ve given him.

“Mm, have a go now.” Jason has gained back some of his composure, flipping Dick over so he’s straddling the other’s hips. Turning his head to look at Tim sitting there with a fond smile. “You too. I’m free to return the favor.”

Tim rolls his eyes again, filled with fondness for both of his boys who will likely make it very hard to go to work tomorrow. Well, his CEO life can take a day off if it means spending a morning in with his lovers, possibly the whole day depending on how clingy they’ll be tomorrow. He can imagine it now : not waking up until noon, breakfast in bed, spending the day watching movies and talking, maybe venturing outside to the park and people watch, try that new restaurant down the street Dick’s been eyeing for the last two weeks and probably more sex.

“Slow your roll,” Tim drawls, stretching out a leg to drag his foot down Jason’s exposed side. “We’ll have all night to ourselves.”


End file.
